You and me both, she thought, heading to the passenger door. ‘You drive. I’ll call Ambo Control.’
The temperature had dropped two degrees and was barely hovering above zero.
Being in a car after riding the Ninja always felt like trudging up a mountain with a twenty-pound backpack. The abundance of metal and trim was cumbersome. She drove her own battered Golf only when taking Barney to the Clent Hills or when the roads were icy.
‘Detective Inspector Stone; I wonder if you can help me,’ she said into the phone.
‘I'll try,’ answered the female voice.
‘Paramedics were called to a female who had collapsed at a leisure centre in Old Hill. Around lunchtime today.’
There was silence on the other end as the despatcher tapped a few keys.
‘Yes, I can confirm that to be the case.’
‘Can you tell me where she was taken?’ Kim asked.
‘The patient was taken to Russells Hall hospital.’
‘Can you tell me her name?’
‘No, I'm sorry but I can't give you that information.’
‘I understand the data protection issues but we really need to identify this woman.’
‘Inspector, I'm sorry but I really can't give you those details …’
Kim growled. They had to establish for certain whether that woman was involved but there were times when the legislation of data protection was like quicksand.
‘Listen,’ Kim shouted at the phone. ‘We need to know—’
‘I can't give you any information,’ the despatcher said, coldly, ‘because I don't have any details to give. The female in question never made it into the hospital. As soon as the ambulance doors opened, she bolted.’
Thirteen
Kim headed past the lounge and straight into the war room.
Stacey was connecting cables to two laptops and a network adaptor.
Dawson stacked a fourth plastic box in the corner.
‘Is that it?’ Kim asked, surveying the case notes from Lloyd House. She had expected more. They were talking double abduction and one murder.
Dawson nodded.
‘Okay, Bryant will fill you in. I'm going to talk to the families.’
Kim headed through to the informal lounge, which appeared to have become the gather point. They all looked at her expectantly.
‘Right, folks, my team is now here and we'll be working out of the dining room. I have to ask that you stay out of that area.’
Three of them nodded but Stephen just glared at her.
She glared back. ‘I will be putting a lock on that door, just to make sure. You may agree to it now but if we're still here in a few days you will not keep that promise.
‘You're all acquainted with Helen, who will be with you most of the time, but the rest of us will be in and out. An officer will remain on the front door for the duration. Now, what are your stories?’
‘Food poisoning,’ Robert and Elizabeth said together.
‘We'll each call the school in the morning. It won't be much of a stretch. The girls are always together.’
‘What about family?’
‘Same story,’ Stephen said. ‘I'll be taking Nicholas to my parents shortly and they'll be told the same thing.’
Kim saw Elizabeth swallow deeply. Clearly it was a decision she didn't agree with and Kim could understand it. With one child missing, Elizabeth couldn't bear the thought of the other one being out of her sight, but it appeared that she had given in to her husband. Kim thought it was the wrong call. The child would have provided a small amount of distraction for them all.
It was not her job to disrupt the dynamics of these marriages but each hour that passed told her something.
‘On the way back I'll collect clothes and personal belongings from our home. We'll be staying here.’ Stephen said.
‘Good idea,’ Kim said. Having them all in one place would certainly make her life easier.
‘Then we can support each other.’
Kim found his qualification of the decision unnecessary and, to her ears, insincere. That might have been how he'd sold it to his wife but Kim guessed it was because he wanted to stay close to the investigation.
And if she were in his position she would be exactly the same.
‘I'll go and prepare one of the spare rooms,’ Karen said, jumping to her feet. She appeared eager to actually do something.
‘Wait, there's something else. We have reason to believe that there is a female involved in the abduction of your daughters. A diversion was caused at the snatch point by a woman feigning illness. I think she is known to one of you.’
She took the still photo from her pocket and held it up.
Elizabeth gasped immediately and covered her mouth. Her expression showed shock and then disbelief. She stared at the photo and began to shake her head.
Kim looked to Stephen for clarification.
The colour had been sucked from his face. ‘There must be some mistake. She …’
‘Who is it, Mr Hanson?’
‘That's Inga, our daughter's ex-nanny.’
Fourteen
Inga Bauer felt the crowd dying down around her. The last eleven hours had been the longest hours of her life.
The pub was emptying of couples and groups, satisfied they had squeezed the last few hours from the weekend before returning to their homes.
Inga could no longer return to hers.
Before being thrown out of the shopping centre earlier, she had watched the daytime crowds head home, weighed down by bags after an afternoon browsing and buying. They had talked and laughed, sipped overpriced coffees. They had lunched or snacked and they had spent. And then they had left.
Inga had been with them the whole time. Trying not to die.
She adjusted her position against the fruit machine. It was a spot that had enabled her to remain unnoticed for the last few hours, but safety was slipping away again. Only a couple of diehards remained at the bar, nursing little more than the foam in their glasses. Two male bartenders were busy washing up and stacking, clearing down for the night.
She couldn't leave yet. She needed more time. Her body was tired and only tension held it upright. She needed to sleep. She needed to relax. She needed to rid herself of the fear. Just for a while.
Instinct had told her to stay amongst crowds. But on Sunday night there were no crowds left to find.
They would already be looking for her. Of that she was sure. She hadn't stuck to the plan. She was supposed to have remained at the hospital until Charlie and Amy were safely hidden. And then they were going to collect her.
The two males at the bar exited the pub and now she was on her own. The shorter bartender stared at her pointedly. She got it.
She stepped out of the bar and braced herself against a cold wind that immediately paralysed her cheeks. Her heart missed a beat as a plastic bag skittered past her feet.
She headed for a multi-storey car park that would at least shield her from the wind and give her a moment to think.
A smattering of cars were lit by a few yellow spot lights recessed into the ceiling. It was a game of extremes, Inga realised, as she wandered around the space. Stay with crowds and light and chatter, or find a dark, silent corner.
She felt sure there must be a nook or cranny somewhere that she could fold herself into and remain out of sight. Just for a few hours, so she could rest and think.
She spied a lift shaft in the far right corner. From a distance it looked dark and eerie, a place any lone female would wish to avoid. Inga headed right for it.
As she neared the area she found that there was no corner. A walkway circled the shaft, leaving it too exposed. Danger could come at any angle if she dared to close her eyes.
She headed out of the car park, her eyes searching every structure, every shadow for a crawlspace.
The exit led on to a road that travelled between two car parks. At the edge of the car park sat an outdoor play area, surrounded by green mesh
fencing that rose to chest height.
A sudden memory engulfed her. She began to head towards the colourful shapes. A white security vehicle approached. She ducked down.
She held her breath, pressed against the wall and waited for it to pass.
If the patrol vehicle was carrying out regular checks she guessed she had a good ten minutes until it came around again.
She moved amongst the shadows and crouched beside a bin.
She held still and listened for any sounds. The silence reassured her that it was safe to proceed. She climbed onto the bin and over the fence. Her foot met with a wooden bench on the other side.
The blood pounded in her ears. Now she was trespassing. If she was caught she might be held until the police arrived. The thought caused fresh terror in her chest.
But she'd come too far to turn around now.
She inched across the bark surface and headed to the wooden climbing frame. It was shaped as a castle with ropes, steps and ladders. And at its pinnacle was a turret; small, confined and safe.
She negotiated the apparatus and threw herself into the enclosure. The breath finally left her body as her back hit the wooden wall. The two-centimetre gap between each slat would not afford her much warmth but it would allow her a view.
She would know if anyone was coming.
She closed her eyes for a second. She felt safe. For now.
As the fear eased out of her body exhaustion moved in. She was crammed into a small wooden structure six feet from the ground.
They would never find her here.
That one single thought dragged the last bricks of tension from her stomach. She would worry about her exit strategy later. She had hours to form a plan but for now, just for a little while, she could rest both her body and her mind.
Exhaustion weighted her eyelids like roman blinds. She felt herself falling away from her own consciousness. Her thoughts broke away and floated outside her head.
The memory that had brought her to this safe place played in front of her eyes like a film.
Amy climbing up the structure. Amy swinging on the parallel bars. Amy waving to her from the rope swing. Amy getting her lace caught at the foot of the turret and falling to the ground.
Amy hugging her tightly.
With the dread leaving her momentarily, Inga was hit with the full force of her own involvement.
The tears rolled over her cheeks.
‘Oh, Amy, what the hell have I done?’
Fifteen
Will Carter sat back, satisfied.
Day one had gone to plan, except for a couple of tiny details but he had no doubt they would be resolved in the near future. Permanently.
Inga, the stupid bitch, should have waited at the hospital until they returned to pick her up. It was a simple instruction and now she would have to die. Sooner than originally planned. She was supposed to play along and spend an hour or two in the A&E department. Will had assured her that Symes would collect her as soon as possible and she could take care of the kids until the exchange was made.
That part had been pure fiction and Symes was supposed to finish her within minutes of leaving the hospital.
This problem was not something he had bargained on – but that's why he had Symes.
‘Fucking send the text now,’ Symes said from behind.
Will ignored him and performed calibration tests on all three monitors. One camera outside and two inside.
The desk before him resembled the Starship Enterprise, although he was no Captain Kirk. Kirk was a weak, sanctimonious wanker whizzing through space saving species and universes. What he should have done was raped, looted and pillaged his way around the galaxy. Would have made for a more interesting forty minutes.
‘Just fucking send it. Then we can relax.’
‘I'll send it on time. As per the plan.’
Symes spat into the corner and Will felt himself heave. Really, there was no need.
‘Who made you the fucking boss?’ Symes grumbled.
A decent education, Will was tempted to respond but kept his mouth closed.
Symes was a goon; a hired hand. A henchman recruited for his natural gifts and abilities. He had no soul. And that would prove useful in the days to come.
Will understood Symes’s frustration. He’d been promised a present and it had been taken away. But Will had a little surprise up his sleeve. All in good time.
For Will, it was about the strategy and planning. Almost two years and a failed attempt had led him to this point.
He craved the end result; could almost taste the freedom. He could hold his nerve to achieve maximum level impact. There was a schedule and he was sticking to it.
‘Look, go and do the food run and then we'll be ready.’
Symes hauled his bulk to a standing position and left the room.
Symes's complaints didn't mean anything. He was born to be a soldier, to be instructed and ordered around.
Will switched screens on the monitor to his left. Symes didn't know that area of the corridor was covered on CCTV. He thought the only camera down there was focussed on the door to the room that held the girls. Buffoon thought the small dome was a smoke alarm. Why the hell would they need a smoke alarm?
But the man needed watching. Yes, they had a deal, and Will had every intention of standing by it, but he didn't need the idiot getting impatient and taking his reward too early.
And so he watched as Symes completed his tasks. He was a man seduced by cruelty for his own entertainment and if he was honest Will didn't care all that much as long as it didn't affect the plan. But at this stage of the operation they could not deviate.
As he heard Symes mount the stairs he switched back to the screen that divided into a quad and displayed the perimeter of the building.
He would venture downstairs later once Symes was asleep. They all had their secrets.
And his secret was not known to anyone.
He stood and moved to the table in the corner. Ten mobile phones lay charging from a row of adaptors.
He patted the one in his pocket set to silent. That was the important one. That was insurance.
Eeny, meeny, miney, mo. His finger landed on the third from the left. That would be for message number two.
‘Yer gonna send it now?’ Symes asked, plonking himself back on the sofa.
Will was unsure why Symes was so eager. This was not the message that would change the lives of the families forever. This was not the message that would shatter their existence and cause irreparable harm – that would come tomorrow, and he couldn't wait.
‘I’ll send it at the agreed time,’ Will said, calmly. He turned to the idiot behind him. ‘Now, put your face straight. I have a job for you.’
Sixteen
‘You set, Stace?’ Kim asked.
A bed sheet had been placed over the glass dining table and Stacey had positioned herself at the furthest point from the door. The two computer screens were faced away from prying eyes.
All unnecessary furniture had been removed, leaving a six-foot-long dining table and six leather chairs.
‘Getting there, Guv. Just searching for the best signal.’
‘The lock's on the door,’ Bryant said, standing.
There was a gentle tapping sound. Bryant pulled open the door. Robert offered a tired smile as he awaited permission to enter his own dining room.
Kim didn't offer an invitation. The household had to accept the area had been seconded by West Midlands Police and was out of bounds to them now.
‘Umm … I thought this might be of some use,’ Robert said, pulling into view an easy chair covered in red velour that had graced the corner of the formal lounge. ‘It might be more comfortable.’
Kim appreciated the thought. ‘Thank you, Mr Timmins,’ she said, as Bryant began pulling the chair into the room.
‘Call me Robert, please.’
Kim nodded. ‘Robert, may we move the pictures from the walls?’ It was a kindness. She hadn't planned
to ask.
‘Please, take them down. If you pass them to me I'll get them out of your way.’
Bryant began to take down the coastal watercolours and paused at a family portrait of the three of them.
‘I’ll take that, Officer,’ Robert said, holding out his hands. ‘Drill what you want into the walls.’
Kim nodded her thanks. That had been her next question.
‘And Charlie’s room … may we…?’
‘Of course,’ he said, nodding, but his pain was obvious. ‘Fourth door on the right.’
She thanked him before he took the pictures and moved away from the area.
She turned. ‘Well, you heard him, Bryant. Put that drill to good use.’
‘You know, if I'd wanted to be a chippy I would have been,’ he moaned.
‘And if I'd wanted to be a school teacher …’ she said, hauling one of the wipe boards into position on the wall behind the door. Strategically placed so that anyone standing in the doorway would not have a view of the case notes.
‘Is that it then, are we unpacked?’ Kim asked, looking around the room.
‘One more box under the table,’ Bryant said, drilling a second hole.
Kim reached underneath and pulled it out. She took the lid off and smiled. The box contained a brand new coffee machine, a pack of mugs and four packs of Colombian Gold; her favourite.
‘Bryant, marry me and have my children?’
‘Can't do, Guv. Missus says I'm happily married.’
Stacey stood and peered over the edge of the table. ‘Oh, yummy, I'll get some water.’
Stacey left the room and Bryant turned. ‘How's the gut?’
She smiled. They'd worked together for almost three years. Consequently he was the closest thing to a friend she had.
‘My gut is unnaturally quiet,’ she said, honestly.
‘It'll churn soon enough. What do you make of this bunch so far?’
She shrugged. ‘There are some interesting dynamics in the group. Stephen's a bit of a blusterer but so far without any real conviction.’
Lost Girls Page 5